Warped
by Wildcard999
Summary: Reality is constant. Finite. It exists as it always has and never changes. Every point in time is as it has always been. Past, present and future, though sometimes a mystery, are set in stone. Right?
1. Warped 1

Terry woke up in his bed, the fleeting wisp of a dream still fleeing his mind. Something important niggled at him, but the idea kept just out of reach. Whatever it was, it would have to wait; he had to get to school.

Terry headed out to the kitchen to grab a quick bite before leaving, but something about the walk from his bedroom to the kitchen seemed strange and far away. Everything looked the same, just like it did yesterday and the day before, yet it felt…wrong somehow. Shouldn't the kitchen be closer?

He shook it off and continued with his day.

The strange feelings followed him all the way to school. For some reason, he had a strong desire to teleport to school. Except that that's impossible without that boomtube thing the Justice League used. Terry wasn't anxious to try that thing again, yet he still felt agonizingly slow on the twenty mile per hour train.

For the third time this week, Max was already at Terry's locker, waiting for him. It was like she stayed overnight, just to show him up.

"Hey Ter. You're here early," Max commented, her voice new and familiar at the same time.

"Hey Max. Yeah, I woke up early and couldn't really go back to sleep. I'm feeling kind of…weird this morning." He pulled open his locker and started pulling out his books for the next few periods.

"Oooookaaaaay…Well, hopefully you'll feel better by third period. Remember, Mrs. Schweitzer's giving us that test today."

"That's today?" Terry reached back into his memory and pulled a vague reference to that. Applied Physics?*

"Tch, tch, tch. Terry, Terry. When will you ever learn? You need to study to pass tests," Max mockingly chided. Then she smiled and struck a pose. "Unless you're awesome, like me."

Terry smiled. He'd missed this. The friendly banter. The small, unimportant concerns of a normal life. And just…well, the security of knowing that the world wouldn't end tomorrow, that home was waiting for him and that he was surrounded by friends and family that actually liked him. It was startling how much he missed being liked. Today was just like the day before. And the day before that. And the day before that. He'd been around people who liked him then too. Max, Dana, his mom, Wa—well, actually, Terry wasn't sure Wayne liked him. More like tolerated. It still didn't make any sense that Terry would miss something that he'd never been without. What was going on here?

—oOo—

Terry tried to concentrate. The air was thick with the clattering of computer keys. Garish classroom lights glared down from the ceiling. Mrs. Schweitzer's eyes darted around the classroom, trying to spot cheaters. Terry stared at his laptop, struggling to make his eyes focus and unblur the black and white pixels.

What is a muon? Is it:

a. an electron

b. a lepton

c. a neutrino

d. None of the above

_What?_ Terry struggled to reach any mention of muons in his memories, but his brain was uncooperative. It was like those dreams where you think you're in school and you have to take a test, but you didn't study, and then you look down and realize you're completely naked.

Wait—dreams…Terry looked down. No, still in the same pants and shirt from this morning.

Still a little suspicious, Terry tested the theory. The brain is sluggish during sleep, so if you pick something unfamiliar and test yourself, it should take longer than normal to remember things. _Okay…Life cycle of a cell…Interphase. There's also Anaphase…Prophase…three more…come on, they're all phases—Wait! cytokinesis. But…what are the rest?_ Terry couldn't reach the information. He was also pretty sure he knew the phases of a cell better than that; it shouldn't have taken so long to come up with the first three.

The next test he could remember was memory. No one ever remembers how their dream starts because it starts as a random series of thoughts and images, then it writes and rewrites itself until it becomes a more cohesive story. _Before I was here, I was in the hall. Before that, Mr. Hall's for History. Then Ms. Jensen for Calculus. My locker with Max. The train. Home. Bed._

Nope, nothing was missing. There weren't even time skips, like in the movies when a lot of boring day-to-day minutia happens that isn't important to the movie, and instead of going through it all, the scene just changes and suddenly you remember you've already done it. Another classic sign you're in a dream.

This last one was always the most conclusive. When everything else felt too real to tell, Terry knew he could count on this test to set him straight—

"Five more minutes, class. Finish putting in your answers."

_Five minutes? Was that really a whole hour?_ Terry rushed through the test, just marking answers. Better a one-in-four shot than nothing.


	2. Warped 2

After school and a couple hours of homework and vid games, Terry arrived at Wayne Manor for his night job. He found himself less excited for the adventure and more grateful for the diversion. The last ten hours had been the most boring of his life. He'd never been so happy to see the dark, intimidating mansion looming in the distance.

"You're late."

"Sorry. Traffic," Terry replied, an enormous grin overtaking his face. Bruce still hadn't turned away from the Batcomputer, so Terry took a wide arc around his back, hoping to have the smile under control soon. It wasn't as though this was his first day as Batman, so why was he so damn happy to be there? The smile persisted anyway. It occurred to Terry that he shouldn't be so worried about what the old man thought, but he knew Bruce would make a thing of it and it just seemed so…tedious.

"Nightwing is already out on patrol, along with Kon and M'gann." Bruce had swiveled around to glare into Terry's eyes, probably hoping to drive home just how disappointed in himself Terry should be. Somehow, that withering stare just didn't carry any weight today. It's just one day—and barely five minutes of work he missed. It's not the end of the world.

Terry wasn't sure why, but remembering he was a Teen Titan seemed…odd. Again, one of the most ordinary things in his life just didn't seem right. Sort of like that dream with the other uncle on his dad's side, even though his dad only had the one sister. Or…sister? His dad didn't have a sister! Why would Terry remember that?

"Is something wrong?" Bruce demanded.

"What? Why?"

"You look confused."

"Oh, uh, yeah…I'm just..having a weird day."

"Uh-huh." Bruce sounded completely uninterested in Terry's problems. Fine. It's not like he's the only hero in town. Terry suited up and jetted off to join the other Titans.

—oOo—

Terry soared through the cool night air. He found the stresses of the day readily melted from him as he relaxed into it. The skin-tight suit covering every inch of his body irked him more and more as everything else fell away, but how else could he fly? It's not as though he had real wings or powers. Strangely enough, he somehow felt he should. This paradoxical existence was quickly becoming a new norm for him and Terry was losing interest in puzzling over every conflicting detail.

Gotham's jagged cityscape zipped by below and around him, triggering the first comfortable familiarity he'd felt that day. He knew he'd done this before and he felt like he'd done this before. Finally, a reality that felt right!

"Hey Night'. Any movement?" Terry landed on the near end of the roof, out of sight from anyone in the warehouse the team was watching.

"Some guys with firearms milling around. Not much else." Nightwing never looked up from the retro binoculars he was using.

_He really should update his costume_, Terry thought. Speaking of…shouldn't he have done that? Why would Terry be the only one using cutting-edge tech? That's just…not smart. It's so out of character for Bruce to even allow that.

"You're quieter than usual. Trying to pretend you're your namesake?"

Terry had almost forgotten what a jerk Dick was. Just as much as his name implied.

"I was just thinking. I'm having kind of a weird day."

"Well, shake it off. There's a truck arriving. Get into position with Miss Martian." He pointed toward an even taller building topped by a green girl.

Feeling a little vengeful, Terry decided to mess with Dick's head. He really deserved it. "Ever wonder why I've got zoom on my suit and you're still stuck using ancient binoculars?"

The startled look on Nightwing's face sated Terry's dark desires, so Terry decided to jet off toward M'gann before he came up with another way to torture Nightwing. He didn't remember disliking Nightwing so much, but something about him really grated on Terry now. Just his presence was irritating.

"Hey, what took you? I thought you were going to miss it," Miss Martian greeted him.

Terry felt like a broken record. "I've been having a really weird day."

"Weird? Like how?"

"Just…" Terry searched for the words, "Weird. Like everything today is stuff I've done or seen for years, but I'm realizing I missed it or feeling like it's been a while. And I totally blanked on a test."

M'gann had been listening curiously, but blanking on a test she could understand. She nodded knowingly. "I've done that. Like when—"

«Okay, M'gann, link us up. It looks like they've got a shipment coming in.»

_'Link up'?_ Terry only had a split second to realize what that meant before M'gann's mind tried to invade his. On reflex, his defenses went up, blocking her from the depths of his mind. She'd still made it through the outer layers though, and he gathered a psychic tsunami to crash down on her mind, forcing her the rest of the way out. Every fiber of Terry's being said this intimate encounter was wrong and a violation. She had to go.

M'gann screamed, verbally and probably psychically too, judging by the immediacy of Nightwing and Superboy's worried calls.

Terry wanted to apologize for the instinctual attack, but vague yet powerful memories had jogged loose. The sensation of another's mind piercing his own was all too familiar. His response had been honed after years of experience with attacks like this. They didn't scare him, just…angered him. It pissed him off that someone could think they could do that to him and get away with it.

But M'gann hadn't been trying to do anything. She always psychically linked everyone so they could coordinate better and hide their plans from the enemy. It was a smart tactic, even if it was unnerving. So if they'd done this so regularly, why wasn't this ever a problem for him before?

Terry worked hard to ignore Nightwing's shouting and focus on the memories. Nightwing was in front of Terry now, shaking him and demanding answers, but that wasn't important right now. The feeling was indistinct, but persistent; the memories were much more important. Terry had already ignored them for far too long, said the feeling. He should've listened long ago, but the normal life outside himself was just too tempting.

Pictures, sounds and emotions swirled around him as Nightwing faded into irrelevance. As he focused his mind on recovering his lost memories the world around him fell away. Familiar faces with names he couldn't recall clarified before him. A brother, great guy, but a little…something? A lover, hot and sexy, but warm and loving in a way he never deserved—or…that's what he thought? She didn't seem so much better than him anymore. Another brother, a real prick of a jerk, unruly and headstrong, but Terry needed him. What for was unclear, but the sensation of needing him wasn't. Kids…Terry could feel he loved them, but why? Cousins? No. Childhood friends? No…who were they?

Other details came too. Darkness and shadows. Strength and power rivaling Superman's. Terry somehow felt no real Kryptonian could present a true threat to him.

That's when he remembered it. A hand instinctively went to his chest, felt nothing, then he unzipped his suit to probe bare skin, willing it to be there. The necklace—yes! It was his signature; his symbol. The reaching bat. And in it were two aces in the hole. One was kryptonite, the other…far worse.

"Are you nuts?" Nightwing demanded.

"This wasn't here this morning," Terry said, fingering the silver, metallic points. He was still foggy and dazed but quickly recovering himself. His real self. He still couldn't remember his past, but personality was entirely different. It was right there, just waiting for him to stop pretending he was the fallacy his current memories described.

"Batman, what are you talking about? What's wrong with you and what did you do to M'gann?" Nightwing's posture was rigid, tensed to prepare for battle but frozen in case diplomacy prevailed. He was pissed as hell, but more focused on the team's interests than personal outrage.

Superboy, on the other hand, was livid. Terry was sure if Kon's focus shifted back to Terry, violence would break out. Fortunately for him, Kon was busy checking over his girlfriend. Although, which 'him' was fortunate wasn't too clear.

"I'm not Batman. Not anymore," Terry said, his voice lower and more confident than before. Older, in fact.

Nightwing regarded him incredulously. "If you're not Batman, then who the hell are you?" He began slowly. "And why are you wearing the Batsuit?" he challenged.

Terry considered the questions, but only an answer to the second came to mind. He looked down at his outfit, then back at Nightwing with an apparently disconcerting grin. The black skin-tight memory fabric receded from his legs, now loose pants. The chest portion relaxed into a shirt, getting heavier as layers built atop one another, dropping down to his waist as a jacket. Then his mask melted down into a small domino mask with bat-wing points top and bottom, much like Nightwing's. Unlike the rest of his costume, the mask was silver, not black. As Terry felt himself return, the shadows crept into the edges of his awareness. He watched as his arms lost their tangibility in favor of the vague wisps of shadows, then returned unharmed. The sensation radiated through his extremities, returning to normalcy a second later.

_Shadowshifting. This is called shadowshifting._

The other Titans were dumbfounded, but an aggressive atmosphere swelled within them as they took stock of the situation. They misunderstood, didn't they?

A sound came from behind him before Terry could clarify. Terry whipped around just in time to dodge an object headed right for his head. He heard a dull crack behind him when it hit the roof. At the object's origin was a thickly muscled man in a stylized costume. He bent down and broke off another chunk of concrete and chucked it like a shotput.

"Irritating."

Terry used telekinesis to elevate the object's arc until it overshot their party completely. He then shadowshifted to the other roof and grabbed his enemy's head, feeling around for any mind that might be in there. The illusion was shocked at first, but growled and pulled a meaty fist back to slug Terry. But there was nothing there. No will. No thought. Every action was directed by an outside entity. Terry imposed the emptiness he felt onto the illusion before him and its appearance dissipated.

A cloud of shock and horror hit him from the heroes' building. Not good. They probably think he just killed someone. He shadowshifted back but held off on coalescing until he was sure attack wasn't their priority.

"What did you do?!" Nightwing yelled. Kon struck an aggressive pose, ready to clobber Terry if given the chance.

"He wasn't real. I don't have a power like that, Night'. If any of this was real, I couldn't have done that."

"Fine, so this place isn't real. That still doesn't mean he was any less of a person. How do you know he wasn't real?"

"That I have a power for. I can feel who someone is. But that guy," Terry pointed behind him, "was nothing. Just an image with no conscious thought. If you were a telepath, you'd understand." Terry stared pointedly at M'gann who was still cradling her throbbing head. Guarded realization shone in Nightwing's eyes but Kon appeared certain Terry was the devil incarnate and incapable of telling the truth.

"Since when do you have powers?" Kon demanded. "I thought Terry—the real Terry—didn't." Kon's body language shouted triumph as he drew up to his full height, chin held high.

"I don't really remember. But this," Terry indicated his new attire, "wasn't a power. Not everything I can do here comes from a power."

Aqualad stepped out of the shadows he'd apparently been hiding in, still wet from Gotham Harbor. "Then how did you do that?" he asked in his normal, uninvested manner. It was odd that he never seemed to care about anything. He'd listen no matter what, neither hoping for truth nor worrying about lies. The confounding perspective was more than a little annoying.

"I realized something," Terry began. The tension in the group was dissipating, but Terry noted that Kon was still angry enough for violence. Terry couldn't relax. Not yet. "This isn't real. None of this." He swept an arm around, indicating everything. "My clothes, this roof, the actual powers I demonstrated. Even some of my memories are fake—maybe all of them. I'm not even sure I really know you guys."

A thought slowly finished forming in his mind. _Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to convince me I belong here. To what end?_

To keep him here, his gut told him.

"So…what? You think this is some kind of dream?" Nightwing asked, not convinced.

"That's impossible! I'm real! No one dreamed me up." Superboy charged and threw a superstrong punch. Terry caught it easily. The impact hurt a little more than he expected, but Terry could feel this reality averaging their conflicting expectations. Fortunately, Kon almost immediately gave up belief in his superiority in light of proof to the contrary.

The pain disappeared quickly and Terry drove Kon back out of his space. "I didn't say you weren't real. In fact, I can tell you are. I'm not sure if this is a dream or something else, but whatever it is, we're sharing the same experience." Terry quickly reached out with his mind and felt each of them to be sure. "All five of us."

"What about everyone else? The League, the other Titans, B—You Know Who?" Nightwing seemed to be seriously considering the proposal now, the wheels turning, probably as he thought back through all his experiences or considered the possible ways they could all be tied into a shared delusion.

"I'm…not sure yet. I only just realized this and I haven't checked anyone else yet." Terry considered going around to check other key people, but another thought niggled at him. The mysterious criminal that suddenly appeared…why? How did anyone know they were up there, let alone sneak up to a roof without any of the very skilled and seasoned heroes noticing? And in such an empty section of the city?

Screams from down below pierced the thoughtful silence that had fallen. Panicked feet clattered down an alley far below, kicking cans and knocking over empty crates. Most of the heroes dashed for the roof's edge to ascertain the situation and stop it, but Terry couldn't help feeling something planned about this. Two attacks in ten minutes in the most deserted section of the city? Warehouses, harbors, shipping companies, those were daytime businesses. Things weren't adding up. As the other Titans disappeared into the alley to fight crime, Terry sat down and turned his attention inward.


	3. Warped 3

Relaxing his mind, Terry reached out to feel what was around him. Past the fake people making trouble below, beyond the Gotham surrounding him. As he continued reaching out, he realized just how empty those areas felt. Limited, mechanical, unconscious decision-trees laid out before him as he pushed beyond the city. If any real people existed in Gotham, they all must have been asleep.

This was not unexpected. Terry had been wondering if anything he saw, felt or did was actually real. For all he knew, he could be unconscious in the back of a van right now, being force-fed a dream-story by a powerful psychic. Well, maybe not. Terry couldn't feel another mind, just simple decisions being made a thousand times a minute, controlling everything in this unreality. A machine maybe?

Terry recalled the difference between a dream and reality. The sensations were the same, yet more pronounced in reality. The easiest way to find it was to look for his real body. He reached up with his mind, up through the levels of consciousness, trying to reconnect. A new sensation appeared. He felt a body. He felt its skin, slightly cold and coated utterly by something wet or slick. He felt a heart beat slowly thumping concussive waves throughout his chest. He felt the shallowest of breath travelling in and out of his airways. What's more, he also heard things. As he became more and more aware of his surroundings, he realized he'd been hearing things for some time. Muffled tones were barely vague puffs of sound by the time they reached his ears, but he recognized the cadence as speech. Organized and fervent, the people outside his space were panicking. Terry had a pretty good idea why.

Terry had never been a member of the Teen Titans. The team he saw was usually called Young Justice anyway. And Terry wasn't Batman anymore. He hadn't been for decades.

Terry—West, Champion of Darkness, was going to have a lot of fun.

* * *

I planned a longer story, but I'm not sure where I'm going with it, so I decided to end it here for now so I don't leave you guys hanging. All I'm going to change is adding in more action anyway and cool fight scenes against unimaginably powerful enemies anyway.

Hope you enjoyed what I've got so far.


End file.
